


Something Good

by Synthtraitor



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, heart eyes motherfucker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 06:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11549109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synthtraitor/pseuds/Synthtraitor
Summary: Maybe it’s time MacCready’s thought about going back for something he left in the Capital Wasteland. Maybe he just needs a little push.





	Something Good

Preston sees the settler out and you heave a sigh as you clean up your to-do list on your pipboy – Lately it’s been getting too long, the bullet points too crowded. The upgrades and repairs needed don’t seem to ever end, just pile on and on until the scroll bar’s nothing but a little dot on the right of the screen and… There’s a lot.

The sounds of footsteps slowly disappear, you hear the front door slam shut, and then you and MacCready are left alone in the worn-down prewar house, boards on the windows, empty doorways, and your desk sitting at the far end of the room, a chair behind it and a couch for visitors in front. You rub your temples and take a drink in the still air as MacCready moves from his customary spot behind you to take up residence on the threadbare couch, stretching out on his back and hefting his booted feet up over the arm rest. You look up and he grins the way he always grins, wide and wiry and kind in a way he claims not to be.

“What are you looking at?” You stiff him, jut your chin out and narrow your eyes, but you can’t hide the stars in them and you know he knows and he knows that you know that he knows. Stupid fucking adoration and love that’s so hard to hide, gets in your way, makes it so the tiredness that hardens and settles in your bones lifts for just a chaste moment.

MacCready shrugs and finally drags his eyes away from you, looking away towards the Minuteman flag hanging on the wall. “Nothing. Just thinking about how painstakingly accommodating you are to people who do nothing but complain.”

“They’re  _ my _ settlers, MacCready.” You level with him, foggy happiness clearing for just a moment as he hits a sore spot. “Safety in numbers.” You check to make sure Preston’s left the house before continuing, “Gotta have  _ some _ friends if you wanna survive, Mac.”

MacCready sobers, but still smiles – he’s still looking at you like you’re the last good thing left on the planet. “Yea. Lucky I got a rich friend like you, boss.” He’s got eye crinkles and everything, it’s fucking ridiculous, and the way his voice carries through the air and  _ boss _ , why is it different coming from him? “But I also know that you care, even just a little bit.”

You shake your head and look away, “Got nothing better to do.”

“Y’sound like Hancock.”

“Hancock’s got nothing better to do than be mayor?”

“Get high, maybe.” MacCready laughs, and you can’t help but join him, quietly snickering along with him as you slowly unclamp your pipboy and rub your wrist over.

“Mhmm,” You agree, setting resting your chin on your hand, sinking and sinking until you shake yourself out of it with a disgusted sound, “Bleh, can’t stand taking chems unless I need to.”

MacCready laughs again, but it sounds closer to a huff, and there’s an audible thud as he drops his head against the armrest, “Some of ‘em are alright.”

“Yea?”

“Jet’s nice.” He says, settling in and crossing his arms over his stomach as he stares at the ceiling, with a soft face.

“Y’know what, Mac?”

“What?”

“I wanna show you something.”

* * *

“So?” You hop up onto the counter of the house you picked out in sanctuary and gesture for MacCready to look around, “Thoughts?”

MacCready takes in the interior, the solid walls and shuttered windows, and then looks back at you with a quiet laugh. “For what?” He’s standing in the doorway, Sanctuary bustling behind him, hat firmly on his head but the rest of his usual ensemble missing. June is taking it’s toll and hanging around Sanctuary for the past couple weeks has led you both to thin T-shirts and bare feet as the streets are gradually cleaned of anything potentially harmful.

You forgo dancing around the subject, solid in the knowledge that MacCready isn’t likely to run – not now, not after everything, so you shrug like it’s no big deal and take a look around the empty home. “Well, Y’know, Sanctuary’s gettin’ cleaner, safer, we’ve got guards and the gunners are bitches compared to us and… So…” You lose your momentum and shirk out of your confident pose, before stealing your nerves and looking up at MacCready.

He’s staring back at you, and you suck in a sharp breath. MacCready looks at you and you can’t fucking think anymore, every sense of self-preservation is thrown out the window, it suddenly becomes morally acceptable to use a Fatman on whoever fucking dares come at you, your rad levels decline and he kisses your scars away and the planets align and everything just seems  _ doable _ again.

MacCready looks at you and disarms you and you’re left gripping the edge of the counter top and face melting into a puppy-dog look that you reaches all the way down to your heart.

“Look, I know… I know I’m not exactly the most loved person ‘round the Commonwealth and there are still Raiders and Gunners and a couple of those Triggermen looking for revenge and there’s even regular people who hate me and there’re molerats and fucking mongrels and super mutants and the whole shebang because I made a big splash in a little pond but…” Your voice cracks, “And… And also, the Institute and Brotherhood’s gone but there’s still a pissed off proctor looking to put a bullet my skull and torture everyone I love ‘cause I killed the elder but… But…”

“Hey, “ MacCready steps out of the halo the door gave him and reaches out to you, “Hey, (Y/N), what’s… What’s the matter? Boss?” His hand brushes your cheek and you turn your face up so you’re face to face, his eyebrows all screwed up and eyes flickering across your face, searching for something. It’s tender. All the kinds of tender that used to happen before the war, when Nora’d pull you close and kiss your eyelids, when she held Shaun in her arms, nose pressed against his little wrinkly forehead as you signed the adoption papers.

This was… This was harder than you thought it’d be. You hadn’t planned for this to happen the way it did, though you suppose that for the past couple years, you couldn’t afford the luxury of planning for your failure.

MacCready presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, and your eyes fall shut at the feeling, and then the corners of your mouth quirk up as his stubble scratches you and he laughs a little when you do.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong? Why’d you take me here?” He asks as he pulls back to take a good hard look at you.

You look him in the eyes then lean forward so your head’s on his shoulder and his arms are draped loosely around you. “I just… I wanted to know if you’d ever want to bring Duncan here now that… Now that he’s gettin’ better. I know you miss him and I know it’s been a long time and I…” You pause for a moment and take a deep breath, “And I, y’know, if you wanted we could go to The Capital Wasteland because I could always tell Preston to fuck off or you could go and we don’t have to be together because you shouldn’t feel pressured to do that just because I helped you because really, I was in a bad spot and didn’t care if I –“

You pull back when you feel his arms loosen around you and then you’re faced with his wide-eyed, close-mouthed expression as he stares and stares and stares.

“I… MacCready, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… We don’t have to…”

“Is…” He looks around the empty living room and kitchen and then back at you, “Is this… Did you make this up for us?” It’s a heavy accusation with heavy connotations alluding to the fact that you  _ love _ him and  _ care _ about him and all that stuff that sends your mind into a pitch-black frenzy.

You try to say something dismissive, something like  _ no, Sturges has been fixing up all the old houses _ , but it’d be a lie because you personally made sure this house was fucking  _ air-tight _ and sturdy and you spent a couple weeks on the roof alone, and so you then try to say that yes, this is your stupid way of saying  _ hey, live in a house with me and lets raise your kid together _ , but the words get all mixed up in your chest and then bunch up in your throat and you’re forced to swallow it all down before you choke or throw up or do maybe both; so you force your rapidly beating heart back to where it belongs and nod, real simple, up and down then up and down and then up and then down again because you’re all mature adults and this is how you handle hard conversations, by nodding and gesturing and not speaking at all. One-hundred percent, total, awkward, silence.

MacCready nods, too, more vigorously than you did and he closes his eyes and sucks in a breath and pulls you in for a hug that squashes the space between the two of you so he’s standing in bracketed by your knees and you return the hug with all the same force and secret words.

“Yea, yes, please.” He whispers into your neck, nose pressed against the base of your skull. “You don’t… I’m so sorry, I don’t have anything to give you…”

“MacCready, you don’t have to… I…” You pull him closer and tug at his shirt until there’s no space between you and all you are is an idiot clinging to a slightly less stupid merc in an old and empty house. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am.” MacCready nods and it shakes your body, “I am, I just… I don’t have anything to give you but all of my loyalty and it really doesn’t make all that much of a-”

“MacCready…”

“- I know, I know, you don’t like it when I talk like that but-”

“MacCready-”

“Okay. I know. I’m valuable and skilled and more importantly, you want me just like how I want you and-”

“MacCready,” You pull away so you can get a look at his face and he lets a little laugh seep through the cracks as he takes the chance to look around again, face melting into a moony expression.

“Did you really… Did you really fuh-reaking build me a house?”

“I…” You take a look around the room, the empty walls waiting for someone to hang something up, paint them, soften the room with blankets and couches, and… “I think… I did. Yea,” You crack a smile, “I think I fucking did. I even fixed up the backyard…”

“We have a yard?”

“I’m the fucking general,” You nod to the back door, “I get what I want whether it’s free meals or a private garden plot and a barbeque.”

He laughs and hugs you again, arms wrapped tight around you and face returning to its spot on your neck, nestled, tucked away and safe from the world and you return the hug, smiling and dragging him closer again because sometimes you just need to be smothered. “I…” He lets out another breathy laugh, “You make me  _ so _ happy, (Y/N). I never thought I’d feel like this again.”

You grin against his skin and ignore the hot breeze coming in from the still wide-open doorway, “You make me happy, too, Mac. I…” It’s odd because you never had trouble saying the words before, “I… I love you.”

“I…” His voice cracks, “I love you, too. And I know Duncan will love you and you’ll love him.”

“Yea?”

MacCready pulls back and brings both hands up so he’s holding your head so, so, so gently, “Yea,” and then he darts forward and presses his lips against yours, eyebrows knitting and eyes shut as he kisses you.

His thumb strokes your cheek and you short-circuit, eyes falling shut and hands sliding down his back trying to draw him closer and closer because god damn it there has to… there has to be someway you can feel him closer to you.

The feeling of his hand carding through your hair forces a little exhale out of your chest, and he pulls back with a sheepish laugh, eyes darting away from your face. “Sorry… It’s just, you’re really attractive right n-”

You surge forward, hands wound tight around the collar of his shirt as you drag him down to kiss you again, closer, hotter and sloppier and his words are lost on his lips and then claimed by yours. You drag your fingers up his chest and across his shoulders until you can splay your hand across the back of his neck, teasing the short hairs on the back of his head and MacCready groans in response. “Is there a…” You draw your fingers towards your palm, tracing your nails over his skin as he rocks into you and it takes a second before he finds his words again. “Is there a bed in here?”

“Mattress,” You croon, dragging your lips away from his to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his throat “In the… The bedroom.”

* * *

“Oh my – holy fu- _ uck! _ ” Your back archs up smoothly as MacCready pins your hips down. “fuck, fuck, Mac, please,  _ please! _ ” He seals his lips around your clit, driving your hips upwards as he presses his tongue up and up and up until it’s against the bottom of your clit and you – you –  _ fuck _ –

A hand tugs at his hair as your thighs seize up and you’re lost in a haze that spreads through your limbs and clouds your thoughts. It persists, MacCready draws it out in the most bittersweet way and then you drop, limp, onto the bed, spent and panting. The mattress shifts beneath you, and with a slow moan, you peel your eyes open to find MacCready looking at you, a grin plastered on his stupid, dorky face.

You stare back for a moment, unable to come up with anything to say, and then he makes a show of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like a cocky asshole, and you flump back onto the bed. “What’re you looking at, merc?”

“I told you,” he laughs and crawls forward on his elbows, kissing your naval and up your stomach to your collar. You see the bones and muscles move under his skin as he shifts and his hair’s tossed and falling in front of his eyes “You’re really, really attractive right now.”

“Oh?” You grip at his bare shoulders as he attaches his lips to the underside of your jaw and sucks. “So I’m… I’m not usually –  _ fuck _ – usually attractive?”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth Ms. (L/N).” He looks at you from under his eyelashes and it’s not fucking fair. This isn’t fucking fair and you tell him as much.

He kisses his way up to your ear and nibbles, “Yea? And why’s that?”

“’cause unlike me, you’re always attractive.”

“Even now?” He jokes.

“Well, I guess not  _ right _ now, no, but usually.”

MacCready scoffs and kisses you hard on the lips, and you return it, body automatically curling around him as he catches your bottom lip between his teeth and then dances away just out of reach, a smile taking shape.

“Asshole.” You grumble, shifting around until you can slide your hand down into his boxers and therrrre you go. MacCready groans in your ear as you wiggle downwards underneath him, then wrap your hand around his hard dick, thumb swiping over the tip a few times. He unravels and it’s good. He ducks down and seeks out your lips with his own and it’s even better.

* * *

“I’d still have to travel.” You say to the ceiling, MacCready mirroring your position on the bed and staring in the same direction.

“And I’d still go with you.” MacCready says, pointedly ignoring the way you carefully worded your sentence to take the responsibility off his shoulders. “Sanctuary’s safe. Safer than where he is now, anyways and a few days is nothing compared to two fuh-freaking years.”

You nod and close your eyes, stretching across the wrinkled sheets and lapsing back into the warm satisfaction that comes after nice sex with a nice person. MacCready rolls onto his side towards you, face still flushed and hair mused up in a way that makes your heart leap into your throat, and looking at him, you don’t suppose you look much better for wear. “So would that be Duncan’s room? Across the hall?”

“Yea. I fixed up his closet and you guys can put whatever you want in there, paintings and posters and chairs and tables, whatever, I’ll get it for you, I promise.”

“You don’t have to...” MacCready laughs, and drags you towards him, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Jesus, you’re a real renaissance man, you know that? You don’t have to prove yourself or anything, you know? You’re… You’re already more than I probably deserve.”

“Well, I try.” You shake your head and close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax in his arms despite the heat and sweat still clinging to both of you, despite the humidity. 

**Author's Note:**

> Where's Shaun? I don't fucking know I 100% forgot about his existence while writing this.


End file.
